


And so We Danced

by hallelujahfunkiez



Category: Stromae (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Break Up, Drunk Sex, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Not Canon Compliant, Passion, Pregnancy, References to Depression, Roommates, School, Slow Burn, Slow Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 09:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15927842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hallelujahfunkiez/pseuds/hallelujahfunkiez
Summary: Reader moves in with Paul while taking a break from school in the states. They find out there was a lot missing between them, and they re-hash their friendship, and even find love.im tired.





	1. Chapter 1

The cab you hailed from the airport finally slowed to a stop in front of your destination. 

"This the place, Miss?" The driver spoke in a thick, Parisian accent. You nodded slightly, taking a moment before pushing the door open. The cool, afternoon air fluttered into your lungs as you stood up straight, your back popping from the long ride. The driver was opening the trunk and setting your luggage on the sidewalk beside you. You thanked him with a soft smile, anxiety filling your chest as you stared up at the house before you.

'It'll only be for a few months.' You think to yourself as your sweaty hand gripped the handle of your suitcase, tilting it as you made your way up the path. Your head raced, trying to imagine what it was going to be like living with Paul after all these years apart.

 

You had been playground buddies. You had met by chance one day during lunch break in primary school. You sat in your usual spot, beneath an aspen tree that was remarkably young compared to the massive, adult trees that lined the schoolyard. You would bask in the half-shaded, half-sunny patch of grass and let your mind wander.  
One day, a large, orange ball had come flying at you out of nowhere, knocking you out of your peaceful trance. You grabbed you nose, a shooting pain going from your jaw to your forehead. Leaping to your feet, you muttered and groaned in pain and anger. From the direction the ball had been hurled, a lenghty, tan boy came barreling at you in concern.

"Ooah!" He gasped when he got closer, crouching a bit with his hands on his knees, catching his breath.  
''You alright? I didn't see you over here!" You growled a little, letting go of your face and glaring at the boy, who charmingly smiled back, slightly amused at your reaction.

"You hit me with a basketball, Dipshit." You had retorted, earning an instantanous laugh from the 12-year-old boy.

"In my defense, you were in the way." He snickered, reaching out to your face to examine the damage. He contorted his face, making inquirious noises as he tilted your chin up and down, then side to side.

"That's not good..." He mumbled in a dramatic tone. You had felt your face turn white. 

"What? What do you mean?" He stepped back, still wearing a deeply pressed looked.

"I'm afraid these basketball wounds are fatal...Death by basketball..." His face slowly melted into a pleased grin as you realized he had just been fucking with you. You gritted your teeth, hucking the ball at his shoulder then chasing after him. 

 

You two became instant friends after that. Every day he would walk you home, then be right back the next morning to walk you to school. It seemed like your friendship would last forever.

But it didn't.

He was ready to start his career. He wanted so much from life, and you no longer could keep up. You chose to leave and study in New York, away from Europe and away from...

Him.

You brushed your nerves off as you reached the front door, knocking timidly a few times, waiting for him to open the door. You hear footsteps on the stairs, then in the main hallway. He stops at the door and the lock begins to unclick. You swallow hard and tighten your grip on your suitcase. Finally, the door swings open, a tall, cheery Paul shooting out the door and embracing you. You yelp in shock but allow yourself to snake your arms around him. He's warm and full of life. 

"Y/N!!!" He yells, swinging you from side to side. You chuckle a bit as he lets go.  
"Hey Paul. Long time no see." You smile softly, Paul grabbing your hand and pulling you into the house.

"Come in! Welcome! Oh we MUST sit down and talk! It's been AGES!" He talks faster and faster, dragging you towards the living area. You feel highly uncomfortable and slip your hand away from him. This makes him stop and look at you in distress. 

"Is everything alright? You look kinda sick." You touch your face, smiling reassuringly.

"Hm? Yes I'm fine. Just tired from traveling." You say sleepily. He nods in understanding. 

"Sit down, Y/N." He guides you to the sofa, hands on your shoulders as he somewhat pushes you onto the couch.  
"I'll make you a café." He punctuates with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen. You tried to protest, but he was out of ears-reach within just a couple steps.

You let out a sigh, relaxing against the sofa's soft cushions and examining the room. He really had blown up ever since he began to pursue music. You were so shocked when you had been driving to school about 8 months ago when Paul's voice came playing through your radio.  
Now, he was huge in Europe. It felt so weird, seeing the boy you played with in school now grown and known internationally. It made you feel so strangely sad.

After a few minutes, Paul reentered the livingroom, carrying a small, white café cup on a small plate. He passed it to you with a warm smile, and you accepted it gratefully. 

"That should help a bit I think." He chirped, leaning against the sofa and staring at you. You took a sip of the dark, bitterness that was the coffee Paul made you, secretly enjoying how good the warmth felt as it dripped down your throat.

"So? Aren't you gonna tell me how American University is? How's living in New York? I hear the winter's are just-" 

"Paul I'm REALLY tired." You interject, not prepared for an inpromptu interview this early into your stay. He nods, an apologetic hum coming from his throat. 

"Sorry, Hun. Let me get you settled into your room." He stood and you followed, him grabbinh your luggage as he guided you down a small hallway in the back of the house. You didn't feel it necessary for him to be so gentlemenly, but after 14 hours of travel, you were too tired to fight him on it.

"It's not the Ritz, but..." Paul teased as he set your bag down inside the empty closet within the obviously unused guest room. The bed looked like it had been pulled straight out of a catalogue, making you sigh in thanks, earning a satisfied chuckle from Paul. 

"It's so nice, Paulo. Thanks." You smiled up at him, which makes his face light up. He always liked seeing you happy. Ever since you were kids, that was his goal. To make you smile.

"I'll let you get settled." He turned to leave. "I'm down the hall on the left if you need me!" He waved at you as he left.

You walked to the bed, collasping onto it with an exasperated sigh, closing your eyes almost immediately as your body hit the fluffly, cozy pillows and blankets. You figured it would serve you some good to shower and change out of your sweats and overly-worn T-shirt, but your body was spent from the long day, and you couldn't move.

Within minutes, you were fast asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello anyone/everyone who is reading this! thank you for reading!! it's p hard to write fanfiction based off of real-life people, but either way i hope im doing a good job!! much love!!

You woke up with a start.  
You sat up, staring across the room as your eyes adjusted to the darkness. 

'Quick. Remember where you are. You're on holiday in France. You are staying with Paul...'

Your heart rate slowed as you relaxed once again, pulling yourself from the sheets and out of bed. Your feet touched the cold floor, making you whine a little. Feeling around you, you managed to find the lightswitch and switch it on. Squinting from the brightness, you pulled your suitcase out of the closet, opening it in the middle of the room. 

You sifted through the clothes until you found a white tank-top and a pair of sheer, pink shorts; the clothes you intended to be pajamas. Slowly, you changed into the clean clothes, yawning and stretching as you did so.   
Once dressed, you checked the time. 6:48 AM. You groan at the sight of this, but decide to get up and head down the hallway to the kitchen.

The small house is quiet, the sound of birds barely beginning to chirp as you found the kitchen. The air in the house was cool, and the soft, morning glow shimmering through the windows made the whole room look blue. This made your chest tighten, the colors, the, silence, the coolness. You felt sad, and not for any particular reason.   
You suddenly found yourself entranced by the view of the empty street from the kitchen window. You sat at the counter, staring out the window and getting lost in your thoughts.

It only felt like minutes, but a voice quickly startled you out of your trance.

"Morning!" Paul greeted sweetly, walking into the kitchen wearing pale, blue boxers and his hair in a frizzy mess. You gasped a little and turned to him.

"Shit! You snuck up on me!" He snickered a little as he made his way to a cabinet much too tall for you to ever reach. He pulled out a container of cereal and a bowl, then walked to the seat next to yours. 

"What time is it anyways?" You ask between a yawn, stretching your arms above your head, causing your shirt to lift up and flash your pale skin on your stomach. This draws Paul to momentarily stare at your revealed tummy, which goes unnoticed by you.

"Uhm.." He flips his wrist in front of his face to read his watch. "Neuf heures." You were surprised to hear that, because that meant you had been spacing off for almost three hours.

You stood up, rummaging through the kitchen to find something you would consider eating. Despite his size, Paul ate a lot of junk. His cabinets were full of junk foods and instant meals, making you sigh in annoyance.

"Don't you have any decent food in this house?" You scoff, making him snort.

"Is it healthy? No. Is it decent?" He turns to look at you. "Oui." He shoots you a teasing smile, which makes you turn away even faster. Out of options, you pull a box of Oreos from the top shelf and a carton of milk from the first shelf. You return to your spot and plop down next to Paul. 

"Need some milk for your cheerios, Paulo? Or are you gonna eat them dry?" He nods and pours the milk into his bowl of cheerios, looking way too excited over it. You return your attention to the Oreos, taking a bite out of one, noting they were quite stale. 

"So what's the move today?" You ask, awkwardly watching him eat his cereal. He turns to you with a mouthful.

"Does'dt matter..." He manages to speak. Your finish off another Oreo.

"I was thinking you could show me around.." You speak up. Paul smiles at this idea.

"I'd he happy to take you out, if that's what you're implying." You laugh, shocked and a bit amused by his notion.

"Oh? A date? No, no. I mean more of a 'free tour guide who will keep me from looking stupid out in public' sort of thing." He laughs, wiping his mouth.

"Well that doesn't sound too bad either, Y/N." He pushes his chair back and stands up. 

"I will get that date though." He winks, walking from the kitchen and down the hallway to his room. You sat back in your chair, stunned.

Why was he being so flirty? He had never been that way before. Sure, he would walk you to school, and he would often bring you flowers on the weekends. And, you suppose there was that time he asked you to go to the annual Parisian Festival, where the two of you had danced. But was that not all done in the name of friendship? Wasn't he just being your friend?

 

You think back on that night. You had just turned 16, and to celebrate Paul wanted to take you to a festival. While you had never been fond of dressing up and going out, Paul had pressed and encouraged you that it would be a great time, so you agreed.

He arrived at your home at 6PM that day. He was dressed up in a flashy, crushed velvet suit, which made you giggle. His sense of fashion had always been unique. Unique, yet quite dashing.   
You wore a short, white dress that poofed out at the end. The top of the dress was golden, and strapless. You remembered the words Paul said to you when you opened the door.

"And like that, my shy caterpillar has blossomed into a beautiful butterfly." You snorted awkwardly at this, grabbing his arm and allowing him to guide you down the street towards the festival. 

That night, you let him hold you closer than anyone had before. You let him make you laugh, and you put your guard down. He traced your arms with his fingettips and stared into your eyes. And, without any thought, you stared back. 

'Shit.'  
You stand up from your seat at the counter, running a stressed hand through your hair. So the memories were romantic. So what? He didn't love you, at least not in that way. All of his touches, his words. They were to make you feel safe and important, not loved. You were friends, and that was all you'd ever be.

Your heart began to race a bit as you chewed your lip. The sound of Paul walking towards the kitchen once again made you nervous. 

"Y/N? You okay?" He spoke cautiously, walking towards you. You stiffened as he got closer.

"Do you remember anything from when we were kids?" You blurted out, hating the tone of voice you accidentally used. Paul's face softened.

"Yeah. Of course I do." He put and hand on your shoulder.  
"We were incredible friends. And incredible dancers." His voice deepened at the end of the sentence, suddenly pulling you against his body into a dancing position. You squealed, your face heating up and turning red.  
"Wha- Paul! What are you doing?" You gritted your teeth, embarrassed at how close the two of you were all of a sudden. Paul seem unphased. He reached behind you, switching a stereo on that was on the counter. A dancy, pop song filled the room, Paul singing along with the words as he tried to get you to dance. 

"Evora, evora~" He sang sweetly, your eyes suddenly meeting his.

"Isn't this your song, Dipshit?" You tease, starting to loosen up as he swayed with your body. He winked.

"Sure is. Besides, shouldn't the music I create be my favorite music?" He smiles widely and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. You smile softly.

"Can't argue with that." 

 

The two of you danced around the kitchen, you becoming less wrapped up in your head than you had been in months. In the moment, you and Paul were just kids again, playing and laughing just like you had done a million times. 

He never saw you, but here and there you would stop laughing or moving just long enough to see how happy he was. You liked seeing him dance and sing and laugh without a single care in the world. It made your heart flutter that he would show you the real him. The whole thing may have appeared spontaniously and playful, but to you it was so personal. Everything flooded back, and the feelings you had pushed away after leaving Paul in Europe surfaced again. You felt something you almost couldn't recognize.

"I love you, Paul."


End file.
